


Prima Facie

by superstringtheory



Series: Law School AU [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - After College/University, Betty Cooper & Kevin Keller Friendship, Betty and Jughead are Law Review editors of course, Caretaking, F/M, Fever, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gay BFF Kevin Keller, Hurt/Comfort, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Law School, Pneumonia, Sick Character, Sick Jughead Jones, Sickfic, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 16:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17790635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superstringtheory/pseuds/superstringtheory
Summary: It’s 3L year. Jughead and Betty are co-editors of the Law Review. Oh, and Jughead has pneumonia.





	Prima Facie

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's day, Bughead fans and friends! Here's a sweet little story for you. <3

_ Prima facie: Latin for “true on its face.” At first sight; on first appearance but subject to further evidence or information. _ Black’s Law Dictionary, 10th Ed. 

  
  


“Our dear E.I.C. is M.I.A.,” Kevin notes, punctuating each abbreviation with a tap of his pen on the desk. “And  _ he  _ was the one who set this meeting for 8 a.m. on a Saturday.” 

 

“He’ll be here, don’t worry.” Betty takes a big gulp of her coffee and flinches when it burns her tongue. “He’s getting over a cold and he just got back from that interview in New York. Give him a break.” 

 

“You mean he wasn’t taking a  _ break _ with you at your place?” Kevin’s eyebrows don’t believe Betty for a second, but Betty’s gaze is steady. 

 

“Kevin, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times: no more discussing of my love life when we’re doing Law Review things. Jughead’s not the only Editor-in-Chief, and I’m guessing you don’t want to be babysitting the cite-checkers over Spring Break?” 

 

“Touché.” 

 

They wait another ten minutes, but Betty can tell that the others are getting antsy-- Archie’s off in his own world- he’d edited the previous issue, a symposium on blockchain technology and the law, and is pretty much coasting from here on out. Veronica’s been hounding authors for correct citations for weeks, and Kevin’s been working with the printer about getting the issue out on time. They’ve all been incredibly busy, and with job interviews happening and finals around the corner, they’re all eager to finish up their Law Review tenures. 

 

“It’s our last issue, so I can see why Jones might want to phone it in”-- Veronica pauses deeply, noting the daggers Betty’s throwing at her with her eyes-- “but I don’t think that’s the case. Let’s just go through the article layout for the issue and then make sure everyone’s up to speed. Then our dear leader can fill us in on anything we’ve missed.” 

 

 **Kevin Keller:** _I’m sure he’ll be filling YOU up too when you get to reunite_ , Betty reads. Her mouth makes an involuntary O. 

 

“ _ Kevin Keller _ ! You  _ will  _ be babysitting all the cite-checkers, and I don’t care if you have to go out and get a hundred cites substantiated yourself.” 

 

 **Kevin Keller:** _okay, okay, I see where the line is_

. 

**Betty Cooper:** _don’t cross it again_

 

Betty clears her throat. “I’ll try calling him, okay? You guys make sure the layout’s looking good.” 

 

Betty speed-dials Jughead and the phone rings three, four times. Five. On the sixth ring, just as Betty is taking a breath to prepare a voicemail, Jughead comes on the line. 

 

“H’llo?” There’s a shuffling sound in the background, like someone moving under a comforter. 

 

“Jug? Did you… um, did you forget about the Law Review meeting this morning?” Betty hates the way she’s questioning facts, but she guesses that’s what being a lawyer is all about anyway. 

 

“... Fuck.” Jughead coughs then, and Betty’s throat aches in sympathy. He sounds  _ awful _ . 

 

_ Deja vu _ , Betty laughs to herself, thinking about how they’d finally gotten together last year after she brought a sick Jughead her Crim Law notes. “Hey,” she says. “Do you want me to take over the meeting? The others are here and I think we can get everything sorted out. Then maybe I’ll come over and make you some soup or something.” 

 

Jughead laughs, a rough sound. “You’re a terrible cook, Cooper.” 

 

Betty pauses, searching for the right words. “Well… I’m good at the Whole Foods hot bar, at least.” 

 

“That you are.” Jughead coughs again, and they sign off. 

 

Betty presses her lips together. “Okay,” she says. “Let’s finish this thing up.” 

 

*** 

 

By Sunday afternoon-- after Betty’s spent the weekend plying him with Whole Foods soup--  Jughead declares he’s feeling “good as new” or-- well, “new-ish.” “Good-ish.” Betty believes him, though she keeps an eye and ear out- Jughead’s been working himself hard this semester, what with job interviews and the Law Review-- and that’s not to mention maintaining his top-of-the-class status. He’s still sniffly all week and she hears him cough softly into his collar as they work together in the small Law Review staff office, but Betty figures that it’s just a few lingering symptoms. 

 

That Thursday afternoon, Betty’s phone vibrates as she’s listening to her professor drone on about international commercial arbitration. Dude may have been a Fulbright Scholar, but he certainly wasn’t going to win any awards for teaching ability. Betty pulls her phone out and looks at it in her lap.

 

 **Jughead Jones:** _that other firm called. They want me for an interview._

 

**Jughead Jones:** … 

 

 **Jughead Jones:** _Can you take me to the airport?_

 

*** 

 

On Thursday night, Jughead texts Betty goodnight far earlier than usual- he says that he’s beat from the day of class and then hopping on a plane. 

 

 **Jughead Jones:** _I’m jetlagged_

 

**Jughead Jones:** _ heading to bed early so I can be all bright eyed and bushy tailed for the interview _

 

 **Jughead Jones:** _gotta get my schmooze on_

 

 **Betty Cooper:** _isn’t Chicago in CST?_

 

 **Jughead Jones:** _well…_

 

 **Jughead Jones:** _my point still stands_

 

 **Jughead Jones:** _Goodnight, ace. I love you._

 

 **Betty Cooper:** _I love you too._

 

That night, Kevin drags Betty out to Bar Review with him and Betty gamely sips a Diet Coke while Kevin hits on Moose, his on-again, off-again arm accessory. Moose had graduated last year but came back to do a tax LL.M-- so of course, just when Betty thought she’d be done hearing about how Moose just  _ wasn’t ready to come out yet _ or how Moose just  _ doesn’t like labels, Betty, stop judging _ \-- here he was, back to ignoring Kevin one minute and making out with him the next. So, the usual. 

 

Betty hasn’t been out to Bar Review that much this year- she and Jughead have been pretty firmly ensconced in their television watching and she’d honestly rather be on the couch with him and Hot Dog than out at some divey bar having the same conversation for the fifth time that night.

 

“I think I’m going to head home, Kevin,” Betty half-yells over the jukebox. “I need to let Hot Dog out.” 

 

Kevin bounces back over to the bar, sweaty from dancing with Moose. “Hah!” He pokes a finger into Betty’s chest. “You called Jughead’s apartment ‘home’! I knew it, you two are endgame.” 

 

Betty just rolls her eyes. “Goodnight, Kevin. Say hi to Moose for me.” 

 

“Moose, Betty says hi!” Kevin screams over his shoulder to Moose, who’s now dancing by himself near a group of 2L girls, who look slightly disturbed. 

 

“... and that’s my cue,” Betty says under her breath, giving Kevin a momentary side hug as she ducks out. 

 

It’s barely 9:30 p.m., so Betty plans to take herself to Jughead’s, take care of Hot Dog, and then (probably) fall asleep on the couch watching  _ House Hunters _ so she can’t get too nervous on Jughead’s behalf.  

 

Her plan goes well, and she wakes up Friday morning to a text from Jughead. It’s a selfie of him in an Uber, wearing his interview suit and the vintage skinny tie Betty’d picked out for him. He looks tired and a little peaked, but Betty thinks that’s probably just to her more discerning eye. He also looks handsome, she can’t fault him that, and-- her heart squeezes-- like someone who’s going to get a job at a big firm. 

 

 **Jughead Jones:** _on my way to the interview- wish me luck!_

 

And that’s the last she hears from him until he’s on his way to the airport, and- much later- home. 

 

*** 

 

**Jughead Jones:** _ i’m at my gate. Hope I can sleep on the plane. I’m exhausted _

 

Betty starts typing, then reconsiders and deletes what she’s written. There’s no use in scolding her boyfriend after he’s just had an important, stressful job interview. Her  _ probably-still-a-little-bit-sick _ boyfriend. She retypes her message. 

 

 **Betty Cooper:** _can’t wait to pick you up at the airport. I need my daily hugs and kisses!_

 

 **Jughead Jones:** _< 3_

 

 **Jughead Jones:** _ugh. I feel like shit though_. 

 

Betty tenses up, wanting to ask how the interview went, but luckily Jughead saves her from having to query. 

 

**Jughead Jones:** _ I think the interview went well- might have to pay some royalties to Dayquil for that  _

 

 **Betty Cooper:** _I think you’re mixing up your areas of law_

 

 **Jughead Jones:** _;)_

 

*** 

 

Betty’s waiting in the baggage claim when Jughead appears on the escalator. The closer he gets, the sicker he looks, and Betty almost winces. 

 

“Jesus Christ, Jughead.” Betty pulls him in to her in a hug and he’s radiating fever heat. His eyes are glassy, his voice hanging on by a thread. 

 

“Still want your hugs and kisses?” Jughead aims for a joking tone but misses by a mile. He’s dead on his feet, still in the interview suit-- rumpled now from a long day of schmoozing and then air travel. He wavers slightly and Betty takes off her jacket, throwing it over his shoulders. 

 

She leads him to a bench on the sidewalk outside of ARRIVALS and tells him to “stay here until I come back with the car or I swear to god I’ll sabotage our shared Google Drive of Secured Transactions notes.” 

 

Jughead gapes. “You wouldn’t.” 

 

Betty fishes her car keys out of her jeans pocket and jingles them, menacingly. “I would. So stay.  _ Put _ .” She leans down, presses a brief kiss to his burning forehead, then dashes to short-term parking. 

 

*** 

 

Jughead makes it to the car on his own steam. A backpack and an empty garment bag were his only carry-on items, now unceremoniously tossed into the backseat. He flops into the passenger side, breath sounding a little wheezy. 

 

“What would you do without me?”

 

“Lay down and die.” Jughead aims a crackpot half-smile in Betty’s direction. 

 

Betty rolls her eyes. “Well, I’ll give you the former at least.” 

 

When they make it to the apartment, they shuffle to Jughead’s bedroom, where Betty kneels on the floor to remove Jughead’s shoes, carefully untying his Allen Edmonds and placing them side by side next to the bed. Jughead sits on the edge of the bed, listing slightly to the side.

 

Hot Dog comes along to sniff at Betty’s hands but she shoos him away. 

 

“Go lay down, Hot Dog,” she says, and the old dog dips his head and turns around, moseying over to his dog bed. He curls up like a comma and lets out a little sigh as he rests his chin on the edge of the bed. “Good boy.” 

 

Betty stands up then to disengage Jughead from his suit. He’s all but an overly warm mannequin and she unthreads his arms from the jacket and tugs it off, tossing it on the floor. 

 

Jughead stirs a little at this, and Betty says, “It has to be dry cleaned anyway. You’re all sweaty, hon.” She forces a smile at this, pressing her hands to his face and neck. 

 

“Mmm,” Jughead lets out a hoarse groan. “Your hands feel so good.” 

 

Betty tsks, undoing his belt and pants button. “Lift your ass up.” She wiggles the dress pants down his legs and off, depositing them on top of the suit jacket. 

 

“So, how long have you had a fever?” Betty asks conversationally as she unbuttons Jughead’s dress shirt. The white cotton undershirt underneath is soaked with sweat and Jughead shivers. 

 

“Dunno… thought I was getting better but I started to feel like shit after lunch. Hot and cold. Started coughing on the plane. Couldn’t sleep.” He coughs and then shudders, as if to testify.

 

“Hm.” Betty walks over to Jughead’s dresser and pulls out a clean t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. She tosses them to Jughead, then makes her way to the en-suite bathroom. “I think you pushed yourself too hard,” Betty notes as she returns to Jughead with a dampened washcloth. 

 

“Here.” She helps Jughead get into the clothes and then under the covers, then climbs up onto the bed next to him. 

 

With the washcloth on his forehead, he looks like a little boy, and she can’t even stay mad at him for going to a job interview when sick and returning on his deathbed. 

 

“Juggie…” 

 

He opens his eyes and looks at her. God, she could squeeze him until he broke into a million little pieces. “Betts?” 

 

“I’m glad you’re home.” 

 

*** 

 

Despite Betty’s nursemaiding, morning finds Jughead worse. His breath wheezes audibly in his chest when he coughs and Betty doesn’t even give him a choice. 

 

“I’m taking you to the student health center. You need antibiotics.” 

 

His docility is telling, and Betty can’t help a smug little smile when the doctor diagnoses Jughead with pneumonia. 

 

Jughead ends up missing almost a week of class, and Betty takes care of him when she’s not in class herself and shares her notes with him when she is. To all of the other law review editors’ chagrin, once he starts feeling better, this gives Jughead a lot of time to do a lot of work-- mainly bombarding them all with emails. 

 

He also gets the job. 

 

Betty walks into the apartment at the end of the week to Jughead with a strange expression on his face, phone in his hand. 

 

“Hey,” Betty says when Jughead doesn’t volunteer. “What’s up?” 

 

Jughead takes a few steps closer to her. He’s looking almost entirely healthy again, and Betty’s glad to see it. 

 

“I… I think I got the job?” his voice goes up at the end of the sentence, more a question than a declaration. 

 

“Oh, wow.” Betty pulls him in for a hug. “I’m so proud of you, Jug.” She tightens her grip on him, suddenly sniffling back tears. She’s already accepted a federal clerkship here after graduation, and Jughead’s job interviews were in New York and Chicago. 

 

Jughead disentangles himself from Betty, gesturing to the couch, where they both sit. 

 

“Yeah, about that…” he runs his hand through his hair, not quite looking at Betty. “I was actually thinking that I might stay here after graduation, you know? I don’t think Biglaw is for me.” 

 

Betty chokes a little on her own saliva, something she tends to do when she’s upset. It’s far from her favorite thing about herself. 

 

“But Jug--” she starts, then stops. “I just don’t want you to pass up a great opportunity just to stay here with me.” Her voice gets tiny there at the end, and the tears pinprick her eyes again. 

 

“Hey.” Jughead tilts her chin up with a finger. “Listen. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, and I think I wanted to go on the interviews to see if I had what it takes. And I learned that I don’t.” 

 

He sees Betty look confused, but he holds a palm up so that she’ll let him continue. 

 

“I mean, I was at that interview, sick as a dog, but no one gave a shit. They’re all working a million hours a week just to get their billables and there isn’t time to pay attention to the human aspect. I just-- I can’t do that. The money isn’t worth it. And besides, of course being with you is a part of any decision. We’re a team, Cooper. On Law Review and off.” 

 

Now Betty’s actually crying, and Jughead wipes her eyes with his fingers, then tugs her in close to him so that her head is in his lap. 

 

“Plus,” Jughead says conversationally, “I had an interview with the public defender’s office this morning, and I feel like it went pretty well.” 

 

“Yeah?” Betty sits up, drying her eyes on the edge of her sweater. 

 

“Yeah. I mean, they also offered me a job.” 

 

Jughead makes a little  _ oof _ sound as Betty hugs him hard. 

 

“Okay, okay.” Jughead looks at her fondly. “Thanks for taking care of me this week, Betts. Now let’s finish out 3L together, yeah?” 

 

***** 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at superstringtheory.tumblr.com. Bughead is my ride-or-die.


End file.
